We Happy Few
by phoenix.of.rhapsody
Summary: Future fic. Melissa McCall was the first person to notice that Peter was missing. Stiles/Cora.


**This is my first attempt at anything related to Teen Wolf. Some spoilers for Season 3 and also disregarding any new/potential developments related to Peter. Hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.**

* * *

Melissa McCall was the first person to notice that Peter was missing.

It was an accidental realization, but one she found herself unable to shake as she stood at the edge of the dance floor, swirling the last sip of champagne around the bottom of the glass. It was a strangely heartwarming sight to see Derek Hale looking so at ease, but she supposed that if he couldn't be relaxed while dancing with his sister, the new Mrs. Cora Stilinksi, then there wasn't much else that could be done for him. She had found herself wondering if their uncle would step in – he was their only other surviving relative, after all – and it was then that she realized she hadn't seen Peter since the new couple had been introduced to their guests.

Melissa reached around to set the empty glass on the closest table. The dance was coming to a close and after that would be her dance with Stiles. Nothing would replace Claudia Stilinksi, but she had done and would continue to do her best to support the young man that she considered a second son and if that meant spending a few minutes in the spotlight so that he could have the next best thing to a mother-son dance, then that's what she would do. She smiled at Stiles, who was talking with the Sheriff and edging ever closer to her as Derek and Cora slowed in the middle of the open space.

She cast one last glance at the people around her, failing once again to find Peter in the crowd. She did manage to catch Isaac's attention and she reached up to twist her pearl earring twice to the left – one of the codes that had been agreed upon at the meeting the night before to indicate an impending problem. Stiles was moving closer, wringing his hands and trying not to look nervous.

Isaac moved to her as quick as he could and she had enough time to whisper, "Where's Peter?" before Stiles was next to her, holding out his arm. She turned and kissed his cheek before allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Isaac watched the two of them begin their dance. Derek had lead Cora through the crowd to find a drink for her. He waited another moment before weaving through the throng of people himself to find Scott.

He found him talking with Allison towards the back of the hall. They both turned to look at him when he approached.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked.

"Your mom signaled me," Isaac said. He mimicked the motion Melissa had made with her earring. "She wanted to know where Peter was. I looked. He's not here. I haven't seen him since we were at the church."

Allison leaned around Scott to glance out at the open room. Lydia was coming towards them seconds later, painfully flawless in her midnight blue dress; she was dragging Aiden behind her. There was an expectant look on her face. "Earring twist?"

"Have either of you seen Peter?" Allison asked. Lydia shook her head. "We should find him. Before he decides it's time to try round two at killing alphas and building packs."

"He wouldn't dare," Isaac frowned. "Derek would kill him if he ruined today. And if he didn't, Cora would."

Scott looked across towards the dance floor where Stiles had spun his mom out in a twirl that he had been practicing for weeks. Stiles had refused to practice with either Cora or his mother until he was sure that he was good enough not to embarrass himself in front of them; the uncomfortable task of dance practice had fallen on Scott's shoulders, as the best man and the best friend. The two had vowed never to speak of the trial and error of their mock-waltz-steps or the real events which had resulted in Allison's broken crossbow. Looking at him now, there was no way that Scott was going to let Derek's crazy uncle ruin this for his best friend.

"We need to be proactive about this. Prevent the catastrophe before it happens," Scott nodded to each of them in turn. "We planned for this. We all know what we have to do."

"You should make your speech, Scott," Allison suggested. "Everyone will be distracted and it'll keep Cora and Stiles focused on you."

"I can help with that," Lydia nodded. "As maid of honor, it's my duty to make sure the bride is happy on her wedding day. I'll go steal her from Derek and keep her safely preoccupied."

Scott nodded. "Isaac, Aiden – find Ethan and the three of you spread out. See if you can find him. Allison made sure her dad brought some emergency _supplies_, just in case. Do you know where he put them?"

"They're in the supply closet next to the women's bathroom." The music was coming to a close behind them and Allison stepped closer to him, straightening his tie and smoothing her hands down the front of his tux. "You ready for this?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He gave a brief, nervous smile and leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheekbone. Scott pulled away and turned to face the others. "Everyone know what they have to do?"

A flutter of nods.

"Alright everybody," Lydia spun on the toes of her strappy heels, "chins up, smiles on."

And then she was marching between the tables like she owned the world. Scott watched her go, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Rationally, he knew there was no reason to be nervous. He'd faced Alphas and hunters and evil Druid English teachers. If he could do that and walk away unscathed, then there was no reason that he couldn't stand up in front of a crowd and toast the man who had stood by his side through thick and thin since before he could tie his own shoelaces.

Isaac and Aiden disappeared into the crowd a few moments later.

He passed by Lydia on his way to the front. She was stooped over, making a show of adjusting the bustle in Cora's simple yet very flattering gown. The maid of honor smoothed the fabric as she stood back up on her feet and brushed loose strands of hair back from her face. Scott made a mental note to find Cora again after Peter was found and all of the speeches were made; she looked beautiful and he knew from experience that the Hales were very seldom visited by positive interactions with other people – he wanted her to know that she looked amazing.

"Do you want me to touch up your gloss?" Lydia was asking. Cora shook her head, looking over at the dance floor where Stiles was standing in place, hugging his mother. With Cora's attention diverted, Scott caught Derek's eye.

He made a show of tightening his tie and then nodded his head towards the back of the large room, where Allison was waiting in the corner. Derek nodded his head and leaned down to kiss his sister's cheek before slipping away.

Scott grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the side tables before making his way to Stiles.

"Speech?" he asked, raising his glass in question.

"Sure thing." Scott could practically see the gears moving at lightning speeds in his friend's head. Stiles looked to the left and then over his right shoulder before he caught sight of Lydia leading Cora between the clumps of people. Stiles Stilinksi grinned.

Scott wasn't sure quite how he managed to get everyone's attention. He was nervous enough as it was, but he caught sight of movement in the darkened balcony area and there was Allison, with a bright smile, giving him a thumbs-up with the hand that wasn't gripping her newly-repaired crossbow. He gulped in a swallow of air and nodded to himself.

Stiles and Cora were seated at the small table towards the front, with Lydia hovering behind, on call – just in case.

Scott cleared his throat and started speaking in a voice that he hoped wasn't shaking. He was an Alpha. He could do this.

"So, uh, hey everybody! So, for those of you who don't know me – which most of you do, I'm assuming. Not sure if there's anyone in Beacon Hills who _hasn't_ heard of Scott and Stiles and all of the shenanigans we always found ourselves in the middle of – but, anyway, for those of you who don't know, I'm Scott, the best man and best friend of Mr. Stilinksi over here," he nodded his head in his friend's direction. He had a feeling he was probably rambling, but it was the best he could do.

In the corner of this eye, he saw Isaac slip in through one of the side doors, catalog that everything was still okay inside, and then disappear out the other side.

He hoped they found Peter soon.

* * *

Isaac pushed open the doors to one of the back rooms. The back hallway, behind the large, open lobby where the reception was being held, was just a dark corridor lined with doors to empty rooms. He swept his eyes over the long conference table and then paused, straining to hear even the slightest sounds.

Peter was a lot better at this than he was, even after long years of practice. Isaac was only too aware that if Peter didn't want to be found, it would be a very difficult thing to find him.

He closed the door behind him and looked back down the hall. His ears perked up at the brief clanging sound, almost covered up by the echoing of Scott's voice being amplified over loudspeaker. Isaac held one clawed hand out in front of him and pushed the door to the stairwell open as quietly as he could.

Derek was coming up the stairs as Ethan and Aiden came down them.

"No one found him?" Isaac asked. The painful lack of a sardonic Beta spoke for itself, but Isaac liked to think that he was optimistic enough to give the situation the benefit of the doubt. It was possible, however improbable, that Derek had already manhandled his uncle back into the party, or perhaps the twins had tossed him into a suspicious white van and Peter was already well on his way to an evening of lockdown at the animal clinic under Deaton's watchful eye.

The murderous glare that was stealing its way across Derek's face stomped out his wishful thinking.

"Where the hell could he be?"

Ethan slid his phone out of his pocket. "Allison's all set up in the balcony. She's got a vantage point to see all of the entrances to the auditorium. She'll see it if Peter comes back in or if anyone else makes a suspicious exit."

The phone buzzed again, just as he was slipping it back into his pocket. "Allison wants to know if we checked the roof."

Aiden shifted, turning back towards the floor above. "There's a door to the roof?"

And the four of them were off, taking the stairs two at a time.

* * *

Scott was shifting his weight back and forth, trying to pretend like this wasn't the most uncomfortable thing he'd ever done.

"I remember walking into kindergarten on that very first day, trying to figure out why my mom was so upset, and then she left and I was alone and the story-time rug was just this terrifying place with all these strange faces. And then out of nowhere, there's this weird kid with a Batman shirt sitting next to me by the fish tank and he just starts talking," Scott paused and glanced over to where Stiles was sitting, smiling up at him. Cora is looking back and forth between them with a kind of calmly content look on her face. It was such a pleasant change that Scott decided it was worth a few minutes of awkward speech-making.

The look on Lydia's face was less encouraging. But then he remembered that Lydia Martin had been one of the strange, terrifying faces on the story-time rug and he didn't seem to care as much. He was doing this for Stiles. Scott grinned and kept going:

"And after a little bit, I start thinking, "Yeah, okay. I can do this." And he kept talking for about twelve years, and it was probably one of the only things that kept me sane sometimes."

* * *

Derek looked out over the parking lot. There wasn't anything to see, really, apart from a few guests making early departures, casting long shadows under the street lamps. He sighed and tugged at the sleeve of his tuxedo. Not for the first time that evening, he found himself cursing Lydia Martin and the compelling argument she had made on behalf of suit jackets and his little sister's happiness. There wasn't much that he wouldn't do for Cora, a fact which Lydia (and an apologetic Allison) had exploited on more than one occasion since the planning had begun.

Where the hell was Peter?

Derek had been waiting, with a kind of strained and reluctant patience, for the other shoe to drop where his uncle's good-ish behavior was concerned. But Peter had been rather genuinely supportive of Cora's relationship with Stiles, to the point where Derek almost (he stressed, _almost_) felt the slightest bit ashamed of the contingency plans he'd made with Scott for when Peter decided he was bored and wanted to be an alpha again. Now, though, it seemed that all of the planning might actually pay off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isaac moving closer to the edge, straining to see.

"Isaac?"

"I thought I saw something." Isaac took another long look over the cars in the parking lot nearest to the side entrance. He straightened. "There's someone down there. I think it might be Peter."

He was impulsive. Derek understood this about himself. While he may not be outright reckless, he did have a track record of decisions made with an incomplete collection of facts. He knew this. And that knowledge, coupled with the character growth it may or may not have implied, as well as a desire _not_ to cripple his sister's family size any further – particularly on her wedding day – was the sole reason that he mentally allotted Peter ten seconds to explain himself. After that, Derek was going to kill him again. For good, this time.

Derek didn't wait. He jumped over the edge of the rooftop, onto the fire escape and then flipped over the railing. He only vaguely acknowledged the others following him. He moved towards the voices at an almost leisurely pace and then there was Peter Hale, leaning against one of the columns of the overhang and waving his left arm in a wide, exaggerated gesture.

" – and the Kanima was morphing into its new shape – "

Derek stopped just inside the streetlamp's circle of light. Peter paused in the telling of his tale and Derek fought the urge to punch the obnoxious grin off his face. The two avid listeners turned to face him and he recognized them as two members of a pack that had helped Cora after the fire. He cast a glare at his uncle. "Really, Peter?"

"You're welcome to join me," he shrugged. "We could always use a second opinion."

He reminded himself yet again that Cora would never forgive him for killing her uncle on her wedding day, not twenty feet away from a room full of her human guests. Instead, he turned his attention back to the other two. "Go."

The shorter of the two, a girl with curly auburn hair, gave him an unimpressed look. Derek took a step forward, letting out a warning growl before he could stop himself.

"You heard him." Ethan's voice was calm and sharp behind him. The twins stepped out to stand beside him, Isaac on his other side.

"And why should we listen to you?"

In unison, Ethan and Aiden's eyes flashed a bright red, glowing in the half-light. At the sight, the tall blonde shrunk back and the two exchanged a glance. They stepped back and away towards the cars without a backward glance.

It was something of a tremendous irony that the first True Alpha in one hundred years was the unsuspecting leader of a pack of misfits. Scott's pack came with a welcoming mat that said "come right in" and for the most part, Derek found it amusing, if not absurd. There were definite pros, though, he would admit. One of which was the fact that, while Scott was above empty threats and blatant abuses of power (such character merits which had won him his alpha status, in the first place), he had also welcomed a set of equally-alpha twins into his pack who had no such qualms. He made a mental note to thank them; they were growing on him, despite his best efforts.

"Now, now," Peter's smile had fallen from his face. "Why'd you have to go and ruin all my fun?"

Derek stalked forward.

* * *

Scott was running out of things to say.

It wasn't for a lack of trying. He loved Stiles like a brother and there were, of course, a thousand things that he wanted his friend and his friend's new wife to know – but of that list, only about two of those things were appropriate for the current audience. The hours he had spent practicing in front of the mirror and then later in front of Allison were slipping out of his memory like sand and he was left grasping, awkward and distracted.

The only consolation seemed to be that no one was calling him out on it. And the fact that Lydia was set to make her speech after him, in case Peter was actually winning in whatever pack-brawl he was missing out on.

"– what really makes them click, the thing that really makes them permanent, is their sense of loyalty – "

Scott was cut off by the sound of shattering glass outside and the sudden blaring of car alarms.

Cora and Stiles turned with the rest of the audience at the sound, but Lydia was there with a bright smile and a tray of champagne flutes. Cora downed a glass in a single swallow before taking Stiles' hand and turning back towards the front. In the shaded balcony, Allison nocked an arrow. Chris Argent stood from his seat towards the back and buttoned his jacket before exiting out the side door.

Scott cleared his throat, stumbling for words.

"The, uh, love and devotion that they have to family," he cleared his throat again and shifted the microphone to his other hand. "_Ohana_ means family. And that means that no one gets left behind or forgotten."

Stiles choked. The sound broke Scott's focus and he found himself distracted by the long-suffering expression on Lydia's face.

"Did he just quote _Lilo and Stitch_?" he heard Cora murmur.

Lydia leaned forward helpfully. "Ohana means family in an extended sense of the term, including blood-related, adoptive or intentional. The concept emphasizes that families are bound together and members must cooperate and remember one another."

Scott pasted on a bright smile for the crowd and hoped that Peter was suffering a slow and agonizing death.

* * *

Peter pushed himself up from the ground. Derek was hovering over him with an expression he usually equated to murder. He dusted shards of glass from his sleeves and heaved himself up onto his feet. A few feet away, Isaac looked like he was considering pushing him back down.

"I really appreciate the vote of confidence, guys," Peter shook his head. "Really. It's inspiring."

"Your reputation precedes you," Derek snapped.

"As if I would actually ruin my only living niece's wedding day by trying to enact some horrible, grotesque plot to regain my status as an alpha. Tomorrow might be fair game, but even I'm not terrible enough to ruin a werewolf's wedding day," Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step back. The glass crunching under his shoes belied the nonchalance of his posture. "And how did you even notice I was missing? Which one of you raised the alarm with your little emergency codes?"

"Mrs. McCall," Aiden answered. His arms hung at his sides but his fingers had curled into fists. Peter took that into the appropriate amount of consideration before he tossed another grin at them.

"Of course it would be Scott's mom," he nodded to himself. "That woman is _delightful_."

Derek opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

"Everything okay, boys?"

Chris Argent may not have been aiming or even attempting to be threatening, but all five werewolves were instantly aware of the two guns, presumably loaded with wolfsbane bullets. Peter heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"I suppose I should be flattered," he said. "I step outside for a little bit and the pack goes to Defcon One. It's nice to feel important."

Derek said nothing. He grabbed his uncle by his shoulders and shoved him forward towards the reception. The others followed.

* * *

It seemed oddly anticlimactic that no one noticed Derek manhandling his uncle into a seat at the back of the room. Or the way Chris Argent took the seat next to him and discreetly covered his gun under a spare napkin. Or the way Ethan and Aiden moved to guard each of the side doors in the room. Or the way Isaac signaled the all-clear to Allison in the balcony. No one noticed any of these things.

Except Scott.

Scott noticed all of these things and it made him smile. Because this was his life now, with all its ridiculous occurrences and awkward best-man-speeches. He paused a moment and looked at Stiles.

"And Stiles. Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. You and I have been through so many ups and downs – I don't even think _we_ know how much we've been through. But you have been like a rock for me, over and over, even when you didn't have to be. Especially when you didn't have to be," Scott nodded at his best friend. Stiles dipped his head in embarrassment. "Twenty years and you have been the best friend that I could have asked for. You have helped make me into a better friend, a better son, a better person. You are like a brother to me and I am so proud of you. I know that you and Cora are going to be very happy together."

Stiles leaned over and kissed Cora's cheek. She gave a short laugh and shoved him back with her shoulder. In the back of the room, Scott spied a small, kind of bittersweet smile on Derek's face.

He reached over and lifted a champagne glass from where he'd set it on a side table. The rest of the guests followed suit.

"So here's to the happy couple. May your lives together be happy and snarky and beautiful. You deserve this. I love you guys."

He tipped his glass in Stiles' direction and then took a sip. When he stepped away from the microphone, Stiles was standing and walking towards him, arms already open for a hug.

"Thank you."

Scott nodded and squeezed the man who was his brother a little tighter. And he steadfastly ignored the confident way that Lydia moved past them, saying, "My turn."

* * *

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